Our winter home

Our winter home, looking southeast.

 

Since I last wrote, we moved across the harbor from what I thought was our winter home, Kungshamn, to our new winter home, Smögen. We'll stick around here for at least a few months. 

Just down the dock from us. The small boat harbor, lined with little fishing sheds.

Smögen is a little island that is hugely popular in the summer with over 35,000 summer residents and calm and quiet in the winter with about 1400 year-round residents. The weather is generally gray, wet, and dark--exactly what we were expecting from a west coast winter. And it's also windy, a lot of the time. When we first arrived it was blowing a consistent 35 knots with gusts over 40 knots. Hans was due to leave in less then a week and I was getting pretty nervous. We are in a very protected harbor, but no matter how protected we are from the waves, there's not much to block us from strong winds. We were heeling over at the dock, somewhat consistently, and the wind was loud. I knew the boat would be safe while Hans was gone (he tied the boat up very well, including chafing protection), but it wasn't very comfortable and I wasn't sleeping well because of, well, wind. It certainly didn't seem like a tenable long-term solution. We kept analyzing google maps, trying to determine where to go next. More inland? South? But then...the week-long storm passed. It was blissfully still and quiet. And has remained that way for over a week. We've had days with 20+ knot winds, but they barely move the boat at dock. As wind increases, its force increases exponentially. So while 30 knots of wind is only 10 more than 20 knots, we can feel it 4-fold. (Or 5 or 10 fold. Honestly, I don't know. I just know that 35 knots at dock is very windy, while 20 knots feels like a light breeze in comparison.)

The undeveloped southern end of the island. The town is peeking out from behind the rocks, at the horizon.

Across the harbor from our boat, looking northwest.

 

It was blowing a solid 30 knots. Matilda almost got blown over at one point; I almost had a panic attack that the kids were going to get blown off to their certain deaths; a hot rum toddy was definitely in order when we got home.

The days continue to get shorter as we march toward the winter solstice. Dec. 1, sunrise: 08.38, sunset 15.40. Every day we lose a couple minutes on each end.

I can imagine that Smögen is lovely in the summer. There is a little swimming beach just down the dock from us and miles and miles of undeveloped rocky coastline to explore. But it's also packed with tourists and summer residents. In the past couple weeks I've been able to go for walks and see maybe only one other person. The scenery is stunning and it doesn't fail to take my breath away. Huge, pink-hued granite boulders, deposited in the last ice age and washed smooth by the sea. There are lots of little paths and lookouts that criss-cross the island, and it only takes a couple minutes to get a 360 degree panoramic view. We've also met quite a few year-round residents and people have stopped by the boat to introduce themselves. We've met friends through other cruising friends that we met in Jacksonville (the oceans are big but the cruising tribe is small), and an America's Cup and Whitbread veteran who is helping us with a few sail repairs. Tourists still visit on the weekends and they stop by and ask questions; during the weekdays the island residents stop by on their daily walks to say hi and welcome. It's small town living at its best. I don't feel alone and I know that I can reach out to a number of people for help. That's invaluable when I'm living aboard alone with the kids in the winter and Hans is halfway across the world.

Visiting Nordens Ark, an outdoor zoo, with new friends, who are also former cruisers.

Red pandas. Seriously, the cutest little mammals ever.

 

Fika is always a necessity in Sweden. Malin brought Freja and Matilda Jul Must, a Swedish soda that is only sold at Christmas. Kind of like cherry coke? They loved it.

 

Thanksgiving came and went with little fanfare. I made a vegetarian spread--sweet potato casserole, Parker house rolls, a brussel sprout slaw, and roasted beets. And now we're gearing up for Christmas. I like to wait until December 1st to start the Christmas season. It coincides well with advent calendars and is a tangible, easily understandable start date for the kids. And our elf, Snowflake, visits us for the first time on December 1st. 

Living aboard is a constant battle with condensation. We run a dehumidifier 24/7 but it still doesn't prevent the hatches from raining on us. Thankfully we opted for the condensation panels when we commissioned the boat. They are simple, removable plexiglass panels that rest on notches in the hatch frames. They don't prevent the condensation, but they prevent the condensation from dripping on us all the time!

Boat kids are handy! Matilda crawled in behind the engine and mopped up the saltwater that had collected from our shaft seal during the initial break-in period. She loved being able to help.

The kids have started attending the local elementary school as visiting students for a couple months. They are absolutely thrilled to have other kids to play with. I expect their Swedish will improve dramatically and exponentially (like the wind!), and we're so happy they can share some similar childhood experiences with their Pappa. But they have both promised me they'll never put ketchup on pasta!

Scrambling around on the rocks in 30+ knot winds.